Link to article: SCP-3939-40.
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[[div class="scp-image-block block-right" style="width: 300px;"]] [[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-3939/scp.jpg style="width: 300px;"]] [[div class="scp-image-caption" style="width: 300px;"]] SCP-3939 photographed prior to containment. [[/div]] [[/div]] **Item #:** SCP-3939 **Object Class:** Safe **Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-3939 is currently kept at Site-39 in pre-containment holding cell C (39-PC01-C). When not in testing it is to be kept in a standard containment locker of appropriate size. **Description:** SCP-3939 is a gramophone, or record player, of unknown date of origin but consistent with design and manufacturing trends of the 1930s. It has an octagonal wooden base constructed of polished mahogany and is imprinted with the logo of HMV at the time. Atop this base is a turntable which is connected to the gramophone mechanism and a large brass horn. All components are in good condition. SCP-3939 currently has a black vinyl record on the turntable, which is turning at a standard rate despite no visible source of power. Additionally, SCP-3939 possesses the ability to speak with a voice transmitted through the horn and potential sapience. Thus far it has only been shown to speak to certain people. The brass horn always rotates to point at the observer. Other observers will see the horn rotate to point towards them. Further tests are pending. [[div class="story"]] You leave the holding cell, sliding the door shut behind you. The ‘click’ it makes when it locks into place resounds with finality. You can feel SCP-3939’s vision burning into your back, even though there’s a solid metal door in the way, and even though it can’t see. Slowly, you make your way back to the office, making sure to take in as much of your surroundings as possible. If what 3939 said is true, none of this is real. You kneel down and touch the floor. It feels as real as everything, but that’s only on a relative level. You realise that you're not really sure you know what the floor is actually made of, even if there’s already a clear mental picture of it in your head. Sally is waiting for you outside your office. It’s hard to place the emotion on her face. Guilt? Worry? Anxiety? Whatever it is, it’s not a positive one. "Do you know what to say?" she asks you. Her voice is flat and forced. "Are you ready to write up the final draft?" The deadline is nearly here. You’re ready. "Yeah." you say. "I am." You sit down at your desk, open up the file, and start typing. [[/div]] Inoculation complete. [[div class="choices"]] [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3939/offset/39 VIEW FINAL DOCUMENT] [[/div]]